The Orphanage
by MLaw
Summary: The beginnings of the young Russian's life in Moskva. # 5 in the Illya series. Some violence and allusion to very mild het. Chapter 1 originally posted as a single" A little drabble do ya", Section 7 Live Journal
1. Chapter 1

He looked up at the dark, star-filled sky, making him feel very alone as usual as he hid on the roof of his home, the Moskva Orphanage, not deserving that name as it was more like a jail.

The uncaring and underpaid teachers couldn't care less. As far as they were concerned it was but a means to an end, a job that meant some money and housing.

Illya Kuryakin wove his way through this life of despair, disease and disinterest, picking up some bad habits that he added to his survival skills. He swore he'd make it beyond this...


	2. Chapter 2

Young Illya wiped the tears he shed on his threadbare sleeve. The clothing he'd worn while hiding in the ruins of Kyiv and in the Sryets camp were better than what was issued here.*

Nothing fit, as he was so small. The grey shirt and black short pants were hand me downs, his worn shoes were loose.

The only new bits were his black hat with the red star sewn to it and a red neckerchief emblazoned with the hammer and sickle.

"_Vy__, Kuryakin! _You are dead," Maxim shouted from the shadows.

Illya scrambled for cover.

.

* ref "Beginnings"


	3. Chapter 3

It was too late, the larger boy laid hands on him, pulling him back and choking him by the red kerchief around his neck.

Illya lashed out, his foot into Maxim's knee, catching him off guard. The little blond had learned to fight hard and dirty to protect himself in order to survive. He turn around, jumping to his feet before his stunned adversary could react, preparing for the worst.

Blood was gushing from Maxim's mouth as he'd bitten his tongue. For a moment Illya thought to show him mercy, but at this decrepit orphanage there was no such thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Illya drew back his small fist preparing for a final blow to Maxim's nose, but then stopped himself.

"_Let that be a lesson to you," _he hissed, slicing off a large handful of Maxim's dark hair.

It was not a trophy, but more of a warning and proof that he had bested an enemy. Counting coup like the oppressed American Indians he had had read about.

"_Stay away from me Maxim, or else I will take something more vital from you next time, and tell your friends the same also holds true for them._

He smiled at his small triumph.


	5. Chapter 5

Illya was aware that his slight stature put him at a disadvantage. To counter that he had fashioned a weapon for himself, a shank. A length of metal ground sharp against a stone, then with two pieces of wood wrapped tightly in a strip of cloth, he made a handle.

He used it to cut Maxim's hair, showing that he was now armed, and hoping it would at least fend off the more cowardly among the boys who tormented him, as well as those among the younger children.

His reputation as a scrapper grew, he became a tough little _súka_bastard._


	6. Chapter 6

This was his lot in life, being chased and harried by the bigger children and it was for no reason for other than that they could.

He possessed nothing of value, only the clothes on his back. Illya always tried to make himself scarce as one never knew from which direction they would come.

Fear of sexual abuse and rape were foremost in his mind, death took a backseat to such things. Fear of death was driven from him while in the concentration camp. His cold, fatalistic tendencies were born there, staring at death on a daily basis did that.


	7. Chapter 7

It was in class that Illya found himself facing a different kind of trouble. He made the mistake of correcting the teacher by pointing out an error in a mathematical equation on the board.

He was called to the front of the class and disciplined, being made to remove his shirt as he was beaten with a wide leather strap.

Then he was praised for taking his punishment in silence and sent to the infirmary, where the inebriated doctor applied salve to his bloody back, warning him about keeping his smart mouth shut.

Illya resolved not to. Truth was truth.


	8. Chapter 8

His strategy worked for a while, acting the _tough_ little guy frightened off most of his tormentors.

It didn't help that in class he always had the answers, and was ostracized because of his intelligence. The other children had no thirst for knowledge.

He seemed a know-it-all, but Illya knew his photographic memory and love of learning would hold an important place in his life... if he survived to reach adulthood.

It was often he would sneak into the library, hiding there alone to read books well beyond his years, struggling to see the words as the light would fade.


	9. Chapter 9

"_Privet,_" a voice whispered, greeting him just as he closed his book.

Startled for a moment, Illya rubbed his tired eyes, trying to see the face behind the voice that spoke to him from the shadows.

"_Hello back. Who are you?_"

"Natasha. I am from the upper class."

"_I have seen you."_

"I did not think you noticed me as you were too busy being a tough boy."

She stepped into the last of the light, revealing her pale blonde hair. "I have seen you sneak in here."

Illya's face reddened. He thought he'd been careful. "_So what of it?_"


	10. Chapter 10

"I did not mean anything by it." Natasha stepped back cautiously as he rose towards her.

"_Do not be afraid, I am not going to hurt you." _He whispered softly.

"I know. You think you are so _zhestkiĭ_, smoking,drinking,gambling and fighting the older boys."

"_I am tough...why should you care?" _He spoke with bravado.

She took the copy of Tolstoy from his hands. "This is why. You are a smart one, and not the same as the others. I like that."

He blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had been nice to him at all...not since Irina.*


	11. Chapter 11

She handed the book back, spinning around and disappearing past the bookcases. " See you," she giggled back to him.

"Da." He called after her, carefully returning the tome to its place on the bookshelf.

Illya flushed, knowing an older girl was watching him. He felt flattered as Natasha Asimov was sixteen and one of the _nice_ girls. Not like the slutty disease-ridden creatures sleeping with most of the older boys and teachers for favors and food.

He was lucky that he was scrawny, with none of those sorts of girls giving him a second look, that kept him healthy.


	12. Chapter 12

Illya managed keeping the bullies at bay, when finally they realized his intelligence could be a boon to them.

He always won at cards, telling them the secret of counting, helping work out the odds in _Svoi Kozyri_, a game of foresight and imagination in which luck had no place.

Once chased, now he was cherished.

Lyov Prokourorov, seventeen and soon to be pressed into military service, if he did not disappear as a thug onto the streets, ruled over the children and members of the staff. He took a liking to the little blond.

Illya became his lucky charm.


	13. Chapter 13

Kuryakin sat behind Lyov, a Turkish blend cigarette hanging from his small mouth. The room was filled with smoke as everyone there was puffing away, watching the card game in progress.

Lyov won and his opponent, a boy named Varnava from the streets howled his anger, accusing him of cheating. He looked wildly at the blond boy standing behind him.

"_Vy ! Malenʹkaya sobaka , vy pomogli yemu obmanutʹ. On ne to, chto umnyĭ_You! Little dog, you helped him cheat. He's not that smart!"_

"_Nyet!"_ Illya was being truthful as he had not been giving Lyov any signals or assistance.


	14. Chapter 14

Varnava, whose name meant _son of extortion_, knocked Lyov

aside, lunging out with a knife in his hand.

Illya tried diving to the side but his retreat was blocked, allowing Varnava him to catch him in the shoulder with the knife before Lyov and the others stopped the carnage from proceeding further.

Once the outsiders were removed, barely alive, Lyov's good luck charm was taken to the infirmary and left leaning against the door. They abandoned him there after knocking then ran off, and as the drunken doctor opened up, the body of young Illya Kuryakin thumped to the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

Illya awoke, finding himself laying on a thin mattress atop a white metal-framed bed, the paint chipping off much of it.

He was dizzy, and his shoulder hurt as he lifted his head slowly.

"Illya?" Natasha was at his bedside.

"_Da._"

"I heard what happened, I was worried for you."

"_Spacibo, but why?"_

"I told you, I liked you."

"_You do not even know me,"_ he mumbled.

"But I would like to," She smiled shyly, "Is that alright?"

"_But of course."_ He tried to hide his smile.

"_Horosho_good_." She kissed his forehead, looking into his blue eyes, then left him.


	16. Chapter 16

Natasha arrived later with a bowl of borscht, more food than he'd seen in a few days. His association with Lyov afforded him better clothes, cigarettes and vodka, but not always enough for extra rations. His bad habits won out over the protestations of his stomach as he was accustomed to hunger.

She leaned forward inadvertently showing some cleavage, but Illya gave no reaction as she fed him slowly.

"_I am not a baby Natasha,"_ he protested, half-heartedly.

"_Ya znayu_I know_, now shut up and eat silly."

His withheld his smile, thinking he was beginning to like her as well.


	17. Chapter 17

Illya spent the next week bored and alone in the infirmary but when the doctor was passed out, he'd slip out to meet with Natasha.

She'd sneak him meals from the kitchen, ones that were prepared for the Director and head teachers. She'd found the path to his heart...food. He questioned his motives for seeing her, was it for the agreeable company or the bountiful fare?

He realized he was drawn to her first, food came second and once released from the infirmary he was free to see her more when she was done with her duties in the kitchens.


	18. Chapter 18

She came from a better family and was given a job working in the kitchens, to be trained as domestic. The Communist party had control over the country, but the wives of the Commissars liked their servants, and preferred them being a better class.

Illya's lot in life was to be doomed to that of a worker on a farm collective. When he came of age he would be sent off, just as Natasha would be.

They took comfort in each other's company and soon they were holding hands, snuggling and kissing innocently.

She was more knowledgeable is such ways.


	19. Chapter 19

It was on a sunny afternoon as they sat hidden behind the hedge, kissing each other, when Natasha reached for his hand, placing it upon her breast.

She could sense his nervousness, as he blushed red. "Do not be afraid Illyusha, it is good."

She undid her white blouse, exposing her breasts to him, and he stared with curiousity. They reminded him of buds waiting to blossom and he followed her directions as she taught him to use his mouth and tongue.

She lifted her skirt, guiding him in the ways of making love.

He'd never felt anything like it.


	20. Chapter 20

Illya shook from the experience, but knew instantly that he liked it.

Natasha encouraged him to explore his sexuality, teaching him to be a considerate lover, at the tender age of fourteen.

She continued to bring food and took pleasure watching him eat. They continued to be intimate, but Natasha realized giving him the food was the best thing she could do for him.

His shyness disappeared when they made love, but she knew he had secrets, deep and dark ones that he would never share with her.

Lots of food and attention did wonders for the lonely young Russian.


	21. Chapter 21

They would always meet outside beneath the hedge behind the building, sitting together, whispering quietly to each other.

Illya refused to tell her his past, there had been too much suffering and he hid his camp tattoo, wanting Natasha to like him for himself with no pity.

Natasha, like Illya, had lost her parents during the war while traveling to Moskva where their daughter attended school; she never saw them again.

All they owned belonged to the state and she was sent to the orphanage, though she wasn't one of the _besprizornykh detyeĭ_street children_ like Illya, she was very different.


	22. Chapter 22

"Illyusha, you eat much for someone so skinny."

"_You eat well in the kitchen, unlike the rest of us who are underfed, it keeps us under control. No matter what, we are always reliant upon them for food. That is how the government controls the masses, keeping them hungry, yet giving them all the vodka they want...making them compliant workers."_

"Do not say such things Illya, they could get you in trouble with MGB.

"_Ministry for State Security is hardly interested in what bespriorzi have to say. We are the lowest of the low." _ His words were no longer shy.


	23. Chapter 23

It was in the fall nearing Illya's birthday when Natasha came crying, seeking him in their usual hideaway behind the great hedge.

"Illya I am being sent away! I am of age and must leave now."

"_Shush."_ He put his finger to her mouth."_Let us enjoy what little time we have left together."_ He kissed her gently, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Natasha began to whimper again, burying her head in his shoulder. She knew this day would come, but ignored it, hoping naively that it would just never happen.

Illya's fatalism would not allow him to do that.


	24. Chapter 24

He went silent.

"Illya you do not care that I must leave?"

"_Of course I care, but I know there is nothing I can do. We belong to the State, we are theirs to do with as they wish and owe all to the Soviet People."_

He did not really believe that, but accepted the inevitable, being both pessimistic and pragmatic at his young age.

Together they walked to the bus waiting to take Natasha to her new life as a maid servant, her little suitcase waiting there for her.

There they held each other tightly for the last time.


	25. Chapter 25

"Here," she whispered, passing something small to him. "You will need to defend yourself."

"_I do not understand?"_

"Do you not wonder why Lyov and the others have not bothered you?"

"_I did not think about it."_

"I told them to stay away from you and they obliged."

"_They know what a good person you are and respect you."_

"Perhaps." She kissed him tenderly on the cheek. She whispered words in his ear. "Do not be like them."

No tears were shed as he watched Natasha retreat to the rear of the bus, waving her farewell with a white handkerchief.


	26. Chapter 26

His face remained emotionless as he'd learned to turn off his feelings long ago. Loss had become a familiar companion to him, perhaps the only one he might ever know.

Illya unwrapped the gift Natasha had given him, showing no reaction as he discovered it was a beautiful pearl handled switchblade.

"You are a cold little _svoloch'_," Lyov said from behind him. "So I get my lucky charm back at last."

"_Nyet."_

"You have no choice."

"_I am not yours, now leave me be." _Illya hissed as he flicked open the blade. "_I am giving you fair warning."_

"Oh really?"


	27. Chapter 27

Lyov dove at him, grabbing Illya's wrist as the blond struggled desperately to hold onto his new knife.

He bit Lyov on the arm, forcing him to release his grasp. Illya lashed out, slicing the blade across the boy's cheek, opening a bloody wound that ran from the corner of his mouth.

Prokourorov howled bitterly, grabbing his face as he stared in shock at Illya, the once small boy who now seemed taller as he stood threateningly with a switchblade his hand.

"_Ukhoditʹ_go away!_" Illya barked with confidence. "No more threats, no retaliation! It is over!"

Prokourorov left that night.


	28. Chapter 28

Illya missed Natasha, but showed no outward signs of it. He would honor her wish to him, vowing to not be like the others.

It was on his birthday when word came that Moskva Orphanage was to be shut down and was to be converted to the Russian Academy of Medical Sciences.

Some children ran, the rest were scattered, being sent to orphanages in oblasts outside of Moskva.

Illya having been tested was found to be far above average intelligence.

The farm collective would not be his fate after all, as he was sent to a school for gifted students.


	29. Chapter 29

Moskva School No. 7 was clean and well organized. The students were all boys, and all intelligent, not like the mindless hoodlums and delinquents that filled the Orphanage. Here there were some who were Illya's equal intellectually and a few, but not many who were superior.

He made acquaintances, though none he dared called friend. Grigory, Anton and Leonid were in his classes and sometimes he was included in their activities, mainly because they needed a fourth person.

The food was plentiful here, allowing young Illya Kuryakin to go about the business of learning without suffering the pangs of hunger


	30. Chapter 30

It took time for Illya to shed the bad habits he had learned at the orphanage. The gambling and drinking stopped, though he continued to smoke. His suspicious nature kept him cautious as a matter of self preservation.

Stubbornness caused him trouble as did his smart mouth. Corporal punishment was not unknown at the academy and he suffered the strap numerous times. In spite of that, Illya rededicated himself to truth.

Solitude remained his only companion. Here too his cautiousness built a barrier between him and most of the others.

Yet he flourished and was fairly happy with his studies.


	31. Chapter 31

Headmaster ensured that Kuryakin joined the _Komosol_, reporting his superior abilities when queries arrived from the Directorate seeking exceptional students to join their ranks.

After his interview with an officer named Karkoff Illya was whisked away, destined for a life of service to the Soviet Government.

Viktor questioned him thinking him a liar when Illya spoke of his time in the concentration camp; the boy revealing the blue-inked tattoo ended the discussion. *

He said not to offer information when it was not asked for. That was the beginning of his tutelage under the cold-hearted Viktor Karkoff.

.

* "Beginnings"


	32. Chapter 32

Karkoff saw that Illya went to University after which mandatory military service in the Navy was but another year.

Training for GRU was rigorous, filling him with doubts as he saw people disappear for substandard performance, never to be heard from again. Rumors of blast furnaces at Sepakov flourished.

After assignment in Gorky, Illya was sent to the west to further his education and spy on Russians at the Sorbonne, * then finally at Cambridge. A mundane career.

Yet his life changed again when he was summoned home to meet a man with a briar pipe...

* ref "First Kill"


	33. Chapter 33

Many years passed as Illya Kuryakin became a loyal member of the Party; doing and going where he was told. His instincts led him not to trust Viktor Karkoff and he did his best to stay under the radar, disassociating himself from his sponsor.

As a child of war, living in the orphanage and his training had taught him many hard lessons in life.

"_In-one ruble,exit-two rubles_. Meaning joining GRU was easy, to leave it difficult. You are being given an easy exit," said Alexander Waverly.

The offer if refused would bring Illya death, if he accepted, he might live.


	34. Chapter 34

Now the Russian sat at his desk in the office he shared with his partner in U.N.C.L.E. New York; his thoughts drifting back to those years spent at the Moskva Orphanage.

There he learned both bad and good lessons as he walked a path that was not the wisest one, but thanks to a young girl he turned from that crooked path and found the right way.

Illya glanced over to Napoleon as he fidgeted with some paper clips, waiting impatiently for their next field assignment.

He whispered softly. "_Spacibo Natasha Asimov."_

"Say something _tovarisch_?"

"_Nothing my friend, nothing." _

FINIS


End file.
